


Curry

by dmhello



Category: Victorious (TV)
Genre: Background story, Beck is adopted, Canadian-French Beck Oliver, F/M, Gen, His parents are gems, Incorrect Victorious, Incorrect Victorious Universe, Indian Beck Oliver, Indian Character, Origin Story, Panic Attack mentioned, screw his birth father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24008668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmhello/pseuds/dmhello
Summary: Based on a thread from @incorrect-victorious on Tumblr about the gang having a culture night.It had started as an impromptu dinner. Then Tori suggested they have more dinners at her house over the summer. Then one night Robbie suggested he bring over his leftovers from his family’s Yom Kippur dinner, and culture night was born.Beck had been waiting for months, and it was finally his turn. It might not go as he expected.
Relationships: Andre Harris & Beck Oliver, Beck Oliver & Cat Valentine, Beck Oliver & Tori Vega, Beck Oliver/Jade West, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	Curry

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a thread from @incorrect-victorious on Tumblr, and a lot of other headcanons from her blog.

It had started as an impromptu dinner, something to get the gang through an all-nighter for finals week. Then Tori suggested they have more dinners at her house over the summer because her parents weren’t ever home. Then one night Robbie suggested he bring over his leftovers from his family’s Yom Kippur dinner, and culture night was born.

Those days were special for his group of friends. Every month they would get together and someone would be in charge of the meal. They brought comfort dishes from their childhood or cultural dishes from their family books. Robbie usually brought a Jewish meal like a brisket or a lamb dish. André brought dishes from Haiti one time and comfort southern food from his grandmother another. Tori and Trina brought in a flood of Mexican dishes. The gang could still smell the room if they thought hard enough. Jade and Cat had argued the right way to cook their joined Italian night for almost as long as it took for them to make anything.

He’d been waiting for months, and it was finally Beck’s turn.  
Beck has been rummaging through the fridge for butter when André had called. Beck had been up since nine that morning. He had bought all his ingredients from the farmers market the day before and had done most of the prep work last night. He was determined to make his night as reminiscent of his home as he could. That meant a lot of butter, cheese, and cooking wine. Sometimes all three.

“Hey man!” André greeted, Beck finally having a free hand to answer the phone. “I hear sizzling, are you still cooking? You texted and said you started this morning!”  
“Yeah sauce is almost done and bread is finally in the oven. It had to prove like four times, but it’s in there.” Beck smiled, squatting so he could look at his creation through the oven window. He could see the sourdough peeking out of the bread pan and getting more golden by the minute.  
“Huh, I never knew naan was so involved. I guess I’m not surprised. Curry and all that looks like it takes forever. You must be exhausted.”  
“Curry?” Beck blinked.  
“Yeah, we just talked about it on the way to Tori’s. They’ve been craving it all week!”

Beck felt his stomach drop to his feet. “Uh, André, I’m not-“  
“We’re all hyped! I’ve had Indian food from the restaurant, but I can’t imagine what homemade is going to taste like.”

Beck felt like he was going to scream. He wasn’t making naan. He had no idea what went into curry. Beck couldn’t even remember eating those things in his life. He vaguely recalled his sisters ordering it one time and getting diarrhea the next two days and then never ordering it again.

“So, you’re almost done. Do you need help hauling it all to the Vega’s?” André asked, his friend's voice sounding fainter over the phone then a second ago. “Beck? You’re breathing kinda funny, you okay?”  
“Sorry what?”  
“You okay?” André repeated “I didn’t mean to stress you out. We’re fine waiting. Finish your cooking on your own time. We’ll be excited no matter when you finish it. If it’s made by you there’s no way it’s bad.”

Beck looked over his kitchen, a Dutch oven of beef stew on the back burner, clams in his butter filled pan, cheese and tea sandwiches on the counter, and his rosemary bread in the oven. None of it was remotely curry. He quickly turned off the stovetops and put back Tim the rosemary plant back on the windowsill.  
“Right, I’ll see you guys in an hour or so...” Beck felt a lump go down his throat “...with...curry.”

===

“Beck, this is fantastic!” Cat squealed as they sat around Tori’s table. “It tastes just like the restaurants!”  
“Thanks” Beck piped through the fakest smile.  
It tasted that way because Beck had sped to the nearest Indian restaurant, ordered one of everything, and transferred the take out to his kitchen’s entire collection of glassware. Hopefully whatever he ordered was edible to him. He’d spent half an hour at that restaurant and he still had no idea what curry was other than “spice liquid on rice.” He had never been a fan of spice. He didn’t mind it, but herbs, nuts, and seeds were much more his palate’s hometown.

“No wonder you started this morning. This is enough food to feed a village!” André laughed as he helped unload the last of the food from Beck’s car.  
“Even I didn’t bring this much,” Robbie said eyeing everything.  
“And you almost brought a whole cow last time.” Rex jibbed, doing his little laugh noise.

“Cat, stop putting your fingers in the dishes. You’re supposed to be helping me set the table.” Jade called, carrying a dozen colorful plates at once.  
“But it’s so good, and I’m hungry!”  
“Just get the silverware. The left drawer from the sink." Jade said, taking a piece of naan on her way to get cups.

“Should I be concerned she knows where everything in my kitchen is?” Tori asked, making Beck smile for real.  
“It’s okay, she’s made my kitchen her stomping ground too.”  
“It’s not like your kitchen is hard to figure out. You’re mom and dad label everything. The only thing that confused me was the herb plants in the window.”  
“What’s confusing about herbs?” Robbie chuckled.  
“Beck, instead of labeling the pots with the plant names like a normal person, painted the names of Monty Python characters on the pots. You know, like a nerd.”  
“In my defense, I was 8, and I will still argue Monty Python and the Holy Grail is a cinematic masterpiece.”  
“You just like it because it’s your dad’s favorite” Jade teased.  
“I liked it before I met him. It just happened to be our favorite.”  
“When did you meet him?” Tori asked getting everyone cups.  
“The Olivers adopted me when I was seven, out of Montréal.”  
“You’re adopted?!” Robbie squawked in surprise. Everyone turned to look at the curly-haired boy.

“Okay Tori I understand because she’s only seen my dad that one time, but Rob you’ve seen my both my parents.” Beck said visibly confused “did you think two white blonde people just popped me out? Like a gift from the sun god or?”

Jade snorted, covering it up with a cough.

“I don’t know, they’re both so old. Your dad has completely grey hair. He’s...wrinkly. It makes it difficult.”  
“Robbie, just admit you didn’t think about it. You’re digging yourself into a whole ‘nother hole.” André said shaking his head.  
“Alright, alright,” Robbie said putting his hands up in surrender.  
“Don’t make yourself look more like a fool. His twin sisters are red-heads man! And the other one is black!” Robbie glared at Rex, opting to stay silent and sulk.

“So who’s the Indian one in your family?” Cat asked “your birth parents? Do you know?”  
“My birth father, my mother was white. She was from France I think, came over to teach. I have their picture.”  
“Oh, can I see? Please please?” Cat said bouncing over to the counter. “I wanna see why you’re so pretty!”

Beck chuckled, taking out his phone and scrolling through to the scanned in photo of his birth parents. The original photo was rough around the edges of the paper, hence the heavy frame, but the phone showed his parents just fine. They both were young, around 20, with his mother waving an ocean of blonde hair down her shoulders, emerald green eyes, and ivory skin that turned feverishly rosy around her cheeks. His father was tall, a trained mop of dark hair on his head, square glasses, obsidian eyes, and a much darker complexion than Beck. They both seemed to radiate elegance, despite holding a squirming toddler. Like they could walk into a room and people would just assume they time traveled from some castle by the sea.

He handed the phone over to Cat, slowly and a little reluctant to let go.

“Oh!” She gasped, Robbie and André, looking over her shoulder “no wonder you look like a prince, you’re mom’s princess Aurora!” Cat smiled wide, handing the phone to Tori. “And father makes Aladdin look ugly! And you were such a pretty baby.”  
Tori’s curiosity turned to a wide smile, looking from Beck to the picture. “You look a lot like her.”  
“Except the nose,” Robbie said, now looking over her shoulder “and the, well,” he just waved over his face awkwardly.  
“Coloring?” Beck supplied.  
“Yeah, you have her eyes though. They’re dark green, I never noticed. They look black from far away.” Robbie grinned “like Harry Potter.”

“Ugh, nerd!” Jade shouted, rolling her eyes “as cute as this whole backstory bonding time is, can we eat now? I’m going to start looking for a horse to eat if you people don’t sit down.”  
Jade looked over at Beck as they sat down. Something like understanding in her blue eyes. Beck didn’t know what his eyes looked like as he stared back. Hopefully, they looked thankful.

“She really is beautiful,” Tori said handing back the phone.  
“Yeah, she was,” Beck said, smiling with a tint of sorrow. Tori’s shoulders slumped, looking back at everyone beginning to dig into the food, then back to Beck. He just poured himself some juice before sitting down.

Turns out, curry tasted like it smelled and looked, like spicy liquid, meat, and rice. It wasn’t Beck’s most favored food, but he didn’t hate it. But then again, he could never hate anything he’d eaten with the group he called his.

===

Goodbyes were said, hugs were given, and in Jade’s case a lot of kisses too. It was late, but that was to be expected with these nights. It’s why they did it on Saturdays. Most of them drove home, though Cat tended to sleep over. Beck looked over the mess that was Tori’s house. Tori didn’t look too happy about the mess either, pushing her hair away from her face as she scanned her disaster house.

“I’ll clean all this up tomorrow, and I’ll promise I’ll return your containers.”  
“Thanks, I’m sure my family wouldn’t like our cabinet to be empty for long.” Beck chuckled in a drained and tired way. He was stacking said glassware up, munching on the leftover naan.

“Look Beck, about earlier,” Tori gulped, sitting next to Beck on the counter “I’m sorry if I made the night uncomfortable. I didn’t know about your parents.”  
“It’s okay. My mother and father are more memories than anything. They weren’t always, but the Olivers are my parents. Always will be. They chose to be my family. I won’t ever forget that.”  
“It must be painful though, missing them.”  
“I don’t remember my mother too well. I was only three when she got sick. I remember her feeling more than her. How she smelled is oddly vivid. I get sad about what could have been sometimes, but I can’t do anything to bring her back.”  
“And your father?”

Beck shrugged “I don’t know, the only thing I remember him doing is dropping me off.”  
“He’s still alive?” Tori asked, jolting in sad surprise.  
“Presumably” Beck muttered finishing off his juice “doesn’t make a difference to me.”

Tori shook her head, looking over her friend. “Hey, you never said the scent.”  
“Scent?”  
“You said you remember what your mother smelled like. What was it? If you want to tell.”  
Beck looked up at her, the same sorrowful smile on his lips “rosemary.”

===

Beck bolted up, a repeated banging on his door having ruined what blissful sleep he had left for that morning. Beck uncurled from his little fetus-like ball (Jade hated that he slept like that. It made cuddling rather difficult. He didn’t mind being the little spoon though) and muttered a few rather nasty words as he zombie walked to his RV door.

“What?” He groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.  
“Hey,” André said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice “sorry if I woke you up. It’s 9:30, you’re usually up by now.”  
“Late night” Beck yawned “but you usually aren’t. What’re you doing here?”  
“I asked if I could come with Tori to return your stuff. I wanted to talk to you.”  
“Well, come on in” Beck waved for André to follow him through the door.

Beck rubbed his face trying to wake up, pushing the few flyaway strands of his hair that has escaped the braid he slept in. He yawned and sleepily put his kettle on.  
“I wanted to apologize,” André said sitting down at Beck’s couch “for last night.”

Beck blinked at him, holding the tea bag and mug in his hands for a good few seconds. He had no idea what André was apologizing for. There was the whole curry thing, and the mess he came home to as his mom chewed him out for accidentally leaving his bread in the oven. She had started to rant about her coming home to a charred mess sitting in her good bread pan but stopped scolding him when Beck explained what happened that night. She gave him a hug and some lavender honey milk before sending him off to bed without another word about the kitchen. There was no way André would know any of that, and no way to know that Beck had been upset about yesterday.

“...for what?”  
“You’re mom called me at 7 this morning” André explained, “gave me an earful.” Beck nodded, understanding slowly growing on him. “I knew your mom could be tough before, but I thought she was going to crawl through the phone and string me up. That woman...” André let out a breath.  
“Could silence thunder?” Beck supplied with a grin.  
“Yeah, that” André chuckled, shaking his head.  
“If there’s one thing I know Marie Oliver will not let go, it’s one of her children coming home upset.”  
“She mentioned something about burnt bread, quite passionately.”

Beck groaned, sitting down next to André with his tea. “Haven’t burnt anything since I started helping them with dinner at 10, and the one time she leaves me alone all day with the kitchen and I leave a loaf baking for hours. Figures.”  
“You must have been really distracted. I’ve never seen you mess up a food.” André’s head hung “I never should have called you. I should have just let you bring whatever you wanted. I didn’t mean to make you think you had to bring curry, I just assumed you were. I should have just asked. I’m sorry.”  
“No, I’m glad you said something. I would have just disappointed everyone.”  
“No, you wouldn’t.”  
“André everyone was waiting for Indian food, and I almost showed up with some stew and cucumbers on bread! They would have hated it!”

“No, Beck, no we could never hate anything you make,” André said pulling Beck into a hug. “You could have just told me to suck it and bring what you wanted to share. That’s the point of these nights, to bring what’s important to you.”  
“Why did you think Indian food was important to me? I’ve never even eaten it before last night.”  
“For chiz?!” André shouted, looking appalled “your parents never took you to get it? Ever?”  
“I never wanted it” Beck shrugged “I’ve never had a connection to it.”  
“But, you’re Indian? You said so when we did that heritage project in 8th grade.”  
“My birth father is Indian. That doesn’t mean it’s my culture.”  
“It...it kinda does.”  
“Well, whatever culture he was part of, he clearly didn’t want me to be in it. So I don’t want it!”

André was completely silent, marveling at Beck’s anger as he stared into his tea mug. “Beck” he whispered. He put a hand on Beck’s arm and moved his fingers in soothing circles “what happened?”

Beck was silent for a while, looking at the wall as he gripped his mug. He took a deep breath.

“He gave me up” he started slowly “my mother died of her sickness, and he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. A month later I was in an orphanage. He threw me at them like yesterday’s trash, and I spent the next four years in that hell hole feeling completely worthless and disposable. All because he didn’t want me.” Beck put his hands over his face, his voice getting shaky. “It took the Olivers so long to convince me they actually wanted me, that they weren’t going to return me like all my foster parents. So when I got to the point that I called them mom and dad, call Lydia and Lyla my sisters, I didn’t want to think about my father. I don’t hate him with the same passion like I used to when I didn’t have a family and a home, but I still don’t want anything to do with him.”

André absorbed all of this, hand still trying to comfort his friend. “Thank you for telling me that. I’m sorry you had to go through any of it. It couldn’t have been easy, no matter how being an orphan sounds in all those children's books.”  
Beck let out a little snort of a laugh “yeah, I wasn’t exactly having any magical adventures. Though I did sleep in a tree in the woods behind us one time. Full moonshine and everything! Though it was oak, not cherry, so it probably wasn’t half as romantical as Anne imagined.”  
“Does anyone else know?”  
“Jade knows about what my father did, and some stories about my time in the orphanage. She stayed with me through too many flashbacks and panic attacks for her not to know some of it.”  
“Oh god, you didn’t have one last night did you?”  
“No, no, curry is definitely not one of my triggers. I had fun, I always do with you guys. No matter what food we’re having. I’m not there for the food, I’m there for the people.”

André sighed as his phone buzzed. “Tori’s ready to go. Like I said, I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to ruin your night with a food you hate.”  
“You didn’t ruin it André, and I didn’t hate the curry. It’s not a family recipe, but I don’t hate it. I don’t blame everything to do with India for my father being a trash human being.”  
André nodded “it just sucks. It could have meant so much to you if-“

“If nothing, I can’t change anything. Thinking about what might have happened never helped anyone. It just makes you angry.”  
“Still sucks.”  
“My parents did try when I was younger. They had some tapestries and decorations from a local Indian market in my room when they first brought me home. It’s mostly in a box now, but I think I still have a few of the antique ivory elephants lying around. And dad laughed for like ten minutes when I skipped all the Indian loose leaf in the cabinet and went for rose instead.”  
“You do like your flowers” André laughed motioning to the dozens of dried bouquets hanging from his window.  
“They tried, suggested a few restaurants and community centers in town. And I did look into Indian culture a few times, but it ended up just feeling like homework. Like I was doing it because I felt like I had to. It didn’t make me happy.”  
“I get that” André nodded “not like you can’t like begets and wine because you’re brown.”  
“And the sugar pie, don’t forget the sugar pie.”  
“Hard not to, I felt sugar rushed for like two days! And I only had a slice!” André snorted.

Beck gave him a light shove “Maybe it will feel important to me one day. I don’t mind the idea of us all going to some restaurant together. If a bunch of people I care about were craving it, it can’t be a terrible experience. But for now, I’m okay, culturally vanilla as it is.”  
“It’s not that vanilla Beck” André smiled, pulling Beck in for a side hug “and next time you can bring all the veggies on white bread and soggy fries you want. I’m sure we’ll love it.”  
“Harp on cucumber sandwiches all you want, but I draw the line at you disrespecting the good name of poutine!”  
“You sound like your mom. Which reminds me I should tell her I apologized for, oh what did she call it? ‘Forcing you to bring the spicy bit of business to dinner?’ She sounds like some old movie lady ready to smack me with her gloves.”  
“That’s a sight I’d pay to see.”  
“Hey!”

===

It would be another two hours before André and Tori left the Oliver's house. Turns out Tori had been chatting with Beck’s sisters for most of the trip. She blended with them so well Beck’s dad almost swept over Tori completely, even asked her if it was her turn to do the dishes. Edward Oliver couldn’t see much but blobs without his glasses, but adding a family member was a feat even for him. Beck and Tori laughed about it in the driveway for awhile.

“I’m almost tempted to have you stay for breakfast, just to rub it in.”  
“Maybe some other time. I would like to see more of your family, they seem cool. And Jade was right, your kitchen is nice.”  
“Monty Python herbs and all?”  
“Oh, especially the Monty Python herbs.” Tori turned to the two boys “what were you guys talking about?”  
“Last night's dinner,” André said quickly.  
“Oh, about Beck trying to pass off restaurant curry as his own like some curry conman?”

Both of them were stunned, one out of horror for Tori knowing and one out of pure surprise.  
“What?!”  
“You knew? And you didn’t say anything?”  
“Me and Trina order from Nali' all the time, of course I knew. I just figured you burned or ruined yours and you were too embarrassed to cancel.”  
“I beg your pardon, that is NOT what happened!” Beck said between offended noises “I’ve never-I burned one thing in my life I’ll have you know!”  
“I don’t. I’ve never had your cooking.”  
“Get back in the house, I’m making you breakfast.” Beck said dragging the two back inside “embarrassingly ruined a meal, I’ll give you embarrassed-jamais de ma vie, le plus offensé que j'aie jamais été!”

Beck’s angry French ramblings faded as he marched away from the door, the kitchen being in the very back of the Victorian Eastlake style house. André smiled at the language, something his friend only did at home. Especially when he didn’t want his sisters to understand him, who were currently watching cartoons in the sitting room.

“You just wanted breakfast didn’t you?” André asked as Tori started to grin in that ‘my plan worked’ kind of way.  
“Trina texted and said she and Cat were making something called cloud eggs.”  
“Oh Lord have mercy on your kitchen.”  
“Yup.”

“Guys, you coming in?” Beck called.  
“We’re coming!” Tori called navigating through the wide picture-filled hallway.

André smiled, taking his time navigating the house. “I guess he gets to cook for us after all."


End file.
